Stone Cold
by TheFallenPaladin
Summary: This is a more disturbing take on how Jack Frost came to be. A father's abuse can only go on for so long, but Jackson is determined to protect his little sister at all costs. Rated T for parent abuse and language.


**Stone Cold**

The beatings were always the same; father would arrive home, whites of his eyes horribly bloodshot with a deadly concoction of alcohol and uninhibited grief, then begin relentlessly searching for me. Thankfully, I expected this that night and had already ushered my little sister, Pippa, into the nearby wardrobe. Every time I hid her away like this, she sobbed and encircled her slender arms around my neck when I got close enough to plead with me to stay. But what she doesn't understand is that our dad has a grudge against _me_, not her; if he finds me hiding with the poor child, he might beat her senseless too. I just cannot handle the mere thought of that. I'd gently pry her off me and say "Just cover your ears and be really quiet." my sad brown orbs watched her mimic what I said and huddle into the corner with some quilts.

After closing the wardrobe doors tightly, I'd try to scuttle into a hiding hole myself. Though I knew no concealed place in the world would ever work. Father would probably find me if I ran to Hell itself, screaming at me the whole entire trip back. I decided to duck under my sister's bed, silently praying to whatever god out there that dad might miss me for once. His feet stumbled across the wooden planks of our cottage like a blind man without his trustworthy cane. Father was mumbling something completely incoherent, however I couldn't hear it no matter how much my ears strained. Maybe it was because of my loud heartbeat overpowering that of his drunken nonsense.

I continually held my breath and only inhaled when I really needed to. My thoughts were racing as I examined his worn shoes to desperately divert my mind of what was actually coming. Suddenly, a hand grabbed the neck of my shirt and dragged me out from under the bed. I smacked my head into a bottom board on the way, screaming in unforeseen terror and immense surprise. Despite the pounding in my skull, I was able to make out the curse words my father was screaming in my ashen face while he held me above the ground "It's your fault!" he yelled. The beer on his breath made me want to gag and droplets of spit flew in the fetid air between us. Next thing I knew, he was slamming me down on the floor, fists flying as his face melted into disgust.

It doesn't continually happen this way, but at least the punchline is the same: bruises. They turn odd purples, blues, and are quite easy to cover up unless father gives me an obvious one in the face. I'll go ahead and spare you the rest of that night, for it's honestly one of the most frightening experiences I've had with his abuse. The next morning I opened the wardrobe doors to tell Pippa it was safe, but she had fallen asleep amongst all the warm blankets! Her innocence is so adorable to me, and at times I feel like holding onto her tiny body and never letting go. She's too young to be going through all of this with me; enduring a life with a father she is constantly forced to hide from. Ever since mom's death a year ago and dad dropping to the bottom of a bottle, Pippa's been the core of my being. No matter what occurs around me, I am determined to protect her. Even if it means that dad's misguided rage will become the death of me.

~0~0~0

"Jackson, can we go play outside?" my little sister stared at me with hopeful, wide eyes.

I quickly looked past her and glanced out the window, where evening light barely filtered through "It's getting late, sis." I responded, absolutely loathing to bring her down "Maybe we should wait until tomorrow."

Her lip curled in a sweet pout "Please? We could still go out for a while before dark."

My weight shifted uneasily, noticing that dad's not home yet. He had slept all afternoon and left quietly earlier to go out to the local tavern that our small village has. I knew, without a single doubt in my mind, that he'd be back soon to deal out punishment upon me. Going out in the open to play with Pippa probably wasn't the best idea; I should be more cautious and start watching for that dreadful man.

Although, when I turned back to face her, my heart melted, along with any rejection on my lips "Okay, but just for a few minutes!"

A gleeful smile burst to meet her cheeks. Pippa laughed joyfully, grabbed my hand tightly, and we sprinted out the door together in a race across the threshold. I swear that happiness was radiating from her in waves and bouncing through my own bloodstream. The setting sun had laid a shadow over the tall mountains in the west and the last locks of sunlight shined down onto the village. A thin blanket of snow crunched under our feet, breath exhaling in a wisp of hot steam from the chilly winter air. People milled around, bundled up adults chatting with each other while their children threw trampled snow in a playful fight. Seeing the kids made me think of dad, and my head snapped to the tavern in fear of him spotting us before a few thick fir trees blocked my vision.

For the first time, I noticed we had abruptly stopped at the edge of the woods. I looked at Pippa "What's wrong, little one?" I plastered a smile onto my face, though it immediately faltered when she reached for my arm. In the chaos of running to the forest and being lost in my thoughts, my jacket sleeve had slid up to reveal one of the bruises. It was a four fingered mark of dad's hand, harshly marring my skin. As I stared at the bruise, I faintly recall him shaking me madly with both hands on my arms, fluently slapping me on the cheek to bring tears to my eyes. Then my mind wondering _What did I do wrong, dad?_

Pippa was surprisingly careful to not irritate the discolored area, touching it gingerly. There was a slight sting, but nothing to cry over. It was just a bruise, I get them all the time nowadays. She frowned "Did daddy do this to you?"

I bit my lip _hard_. Of course she could comprehend that our father wasn't the best of men out there, although I never really explained about the abuse to her; how I was fully determined to protect Pippa from his wrath. Although, should I tell her? She's only eleven, so do I need to begin preparing her his misplaced anger already, or will she figure it out herself one day.

"Did he?" she asked again, hurt evident in her eyes.

Without questioning myself, I nodded. I push down the sleeve anxiously and kneel to meet her confused face "You see, Pippa," I whispered, frantically probing my brain for the right words "Daddy comes home very mad sometimes and takes it out on people."

She processed this for a second, then softly gasped "Is that why I hide in the closet until morning most nights? Is it because daddy hurts people and _we _have to hide from him?"

I smiled sadly, wanting to keep her from this as much as I can "Yes, he accidentally hurts people. I wasn't hiding good enough and he got me instead."

"Why does he do it though?"

"I don't know." I forced out the three words, so close to tears. Father beats me nearly every night because he's totally clouded and lost without mom around. When she was ill, he stayed by his wife's side night and day until she passed away in a sick haze of fever. At first, dad just ignored his grieving kids, however the misery soon corrupted into unperturbed rage that he needed something to urgently take it out on.

Pippa studied me with concern "Are you alright, Jackson?"

I gazed back now, attempting to smirk "Yeah, I'm great, Pip!" I ruffled her brown hair, rewarded with a small giggle "We should head back, it's getting-"

A man's sudden voice cut a cold dagger deep into my heart "Jackson? Pippa? Where in the hell are you two?" It was dad's, and he sounded furious "Come here, you brats." his words slurred drunkenly.

Sheer terror filled my chest and I hastily turned to my sister, who was staring where father's voice echoed from "Pip, Pippa?" I nudged her shoulder a bit to get her attention "We're going to play hide and seek now, alright?"

Dad appeared beyond the timberline of fir trees and spotted us quickly "Hey! Come ere' you-" I blocked out whatever dirty thing he ventured to call us and tried not to think about him strutting right towards where we stand.

"Right now? Daddy wants us to come home though." Pippa looked torn between listening to me or her dad.

I shook my head "He's going to hurt more people, Pip, and I don't want you to be one of them."

It seemed like forever until she finally nodded in odd understanding. Meanwhile, my hands started trembling as dad's footsteps cracked fallen sticks and he became closer "Okay, d-daddy's it and he has to find us. I want you to win, Pippa, so run away as far as you can." I grabbed her hand and sprinted forward with her "Let's go!"

The sun had at last dropped over the mountains in the distance and thrown the whole valley into a dark shadow. Tree limbs jutted out to scratch me in our reckless haste. The slight pain didn't bother me though, it was the enraged and drunk man somehow catching up to us that did. Bitter wind whipped our hair back and stung my flustered skin; the temperature was dropping at an alarming rate. Father's shouts of frustration were shrill in such a beautifully quiet forest, and I can only imagine the animals themselves cowering in trepidation.

"Watch out!" Pippa yelped and I gradually slowed in pure fright at the frozen pond that now presented an obstacle to us. We had no time; dad would be here soon.

A distressful resolution burst in my brain "Pip, you have to go around. I'll stay here."

"No," she looked at me in bewilderment, tears gathering "You have to win the game, too!"

My heart clenched regretfully "I'll hold him off so you can win. You've always been the winner, silly." I leaned down to press a tender kiss on her cool forehead "Pip, you _can't_ lose."

"But, what if he hurts you?"

_He will_ "I'll be fine, just please go." I pleaded "When the times right, I promise to come and find you, Pip."

Pippa gradually began to back up "You promise?" her eyes probed my own for an answer.

"I promise."

She grinned and ran up around the pond, disappearing in the thick of woods behind me. I closed my eyes, wanting to run away with her. We could be happy going from one village to the next and adventuring forth on our own. But there's no reason to prolong the inevitable, and I know I can't provide for my sister alone; cut off from the little amount of dad's income he is able to bring in. I'm only seventeen, yet mentally feel like an old man who's slowly losing his way.

"There you are, ungrateful... _thing_." I jumped in shock and turned around to finally see my father, who belched loudly. I feel like my chest is about to burst in panic, my pulse pumping blood much faster than usual. I should be indignant to his abuse and lash out to take up for myself, however I've seem to become entirely speechless. He steps forward; I can't move "Damn it, when are you going to learn some respect for me, boy?" another step "After all the shit I've done for you and your bratty little sister-" he stumbled closer, nearly toppling over "Since _she _died; you should be thanking me! Why do I even take care of you? My wife's death was all your fucking fault anyway."

For once in my life, I found the courage to reply "That's a lie."

Father scowled at me and pointed a finger directly at my chest "Bull. Her death was caused by you."

"No!" tears ran silently down my red cheeks "Everyone was dying then! That illness spread like wild fire and killed half of the villagers. It was not my fault mom died."

He advanced forward and I backed up in terrible dread, my feet now walking on the frozen pond "Now you listen to me, son." dad kept coming, ceasing to move at the edge while I kept on; my balance being tested on the slick ice "When I left your mother's side for a split second, I came back to see _you_ beside her dead body." his hostility curled my insides as he repeated "It's all your fault she's gone."

Without warning, the ice underneath my feet cracked in web-thin laces. I gazed at my father in horror, rapidly comprehending that he was the only possible person who can assist me, or die trying. No, I have to get to Pippa soon. "D-Dad," I stammered, hearing the ice crack when I dared to move a fraction "The pond, it's about to fall in right here."

"And?"

"I need your help." at this, father honestly looked appalled.

Then, he unexpectedly laughed aloud, his belly shaking "Me, help your scrawny ass?" he began to turn away from the pond and his son, who was literally on thin ice "I think I'd rather go have me another swig."

In one instant my facade dropped and I sobbed urgently "Please!" I begged "You can't just leave me to die here."

None of my pleas reached the drunken man's ears though, too induced in alcohol to really take any necessary precautions that any other caring parent would. Swiftly, the ice cracked in half and I'm promptly immersed into total shock as freezing water pierces my whole body. I gasp at the speedy chill; the movement thrusting wintry water down my throat and piercing my chest in microseconds. I thrash about in the darkness, deliberately falling from the one open hole that could be my life saver. My limbs are becoming sluggish as black edges in at what little bit of vision I have left. The water is suffocating me and I feel overloaded with anger, sorrow, guilt, and _so_ much cold. In the blink of an eye, the darkness corrupts me; there is nothing.

For a while, I waited impatiently in this darkness. I felt lost and detached from everything, then I started crying. Endlessly my tears fell while I thought of the promise I had made my younger sister, that I'd return and find her. What if she waits for me and stays in the cold alone? Oh god, she's going to be forced to face father's beatings now because of me! Pippa's more than likely going to have to go through the same hell i did. No way am I letting that happen. I'll make it back to her once I leave this strange place, and-

Out of the murk of water, there was a circle of light. I floated up towards it at a snail's pace, curious to know why I was cold and what exactly the brightness I'm drawn to is originating from. I reached a ragged hole of ice and emerged from a frozen pond into a winter night. I continued to gently hover above the ice before landing on it with bare feet. For some reason, my first thought was that I'd somehow lost my shoes in the water. The second, was of the extremely large Moon looming over me in the black sky. Gorgeous stars shone around it and blinked back at my baffled awe.

Then there was a voice that broke the quiet, belonging to a male _"Jack Frost." _Instantly, I gained the knowledge that this was my name, and the being who had spoken was The Man in the Moon. I now regard the Moon with new born astonishment; staring at it longingly, mere amazement causing me to smile. I walk across the pond, watching patterns of frost form on the ice with every step and let out of a chortle of authentic joy.


End file.
